Sev'n days were past, when Lamachus appear'd
Before Mardonius. Mighty chief, he said,
I hasted to Themistocles, and spoke
Thy friendly words. His answer first imply'd
No more, than cold acceptance of the terms
For Mindarus. At length two hundred, prime,
Of all his num'rous captives, he releas'd;
His minister, Sicinus, in the ship,
Which landed me, detains them near the port,
Till Haliartus, and the promis'd gold
Are lodg'd on board. Themistocles himself
Was bound to Athens with his menial train,
His wife and race. We parted on the shore.
To me, repeating in a whisper'd tone
Thy proffers large, he scornful thus reply'd:
'The spoils of Asia will exceed her gifts.'
Then loud thy brave defiance I pronounc'd.
He with redoubled arrogance thus brief:
'Rouse thy new master; else the plains of Thebes
'I may attain before him.' Fir'd with rage
Mardonious here: If Athens do not send
By Alexander's mouth submission low,
She shall become the spoil of Asian flames,
Themistocles spectator of the blaze.
Be swift; yon Greek for Mindarus exchange;
Two hundred talents promis'd shall be paid;
These ransom'd warriors I appoint my guard;
Brave Mindarus their captain. Stern he ends;
In open fight th' Athenian to confront
Magnanimous he burns; his heated soul
Yields to delusion of that subtle chief,
Wise like the serpent gliding through a brake,
When his empoison'd jaws in silence steal
On some incautious woodman, who, on toil
Intent, exerts his brawny strength, nor deems
A foe is nigh, nor hears him, nor perceives,
Till sore the death-inflicting wound he feels.
A summons swift for embarkation flies
To Haliartus. With regret he leaves
Dear friends, but dearer his Acanthè's love,
More prevalent his constant zeal for Greece
Combine to sooth his pain. They wing his speed
To good Sicinus, who, the ransom'd train
Discharging, tow'rds Euboea steers the keel
With Persian treasure fraught. The ev'ning clos'd,
When by a hasty mandate to the son
Of Gobryas, Lamachus was call'd. The chief
In perturbation of indignant wrath
Was striding o'er the carpet, which bespread
His rich pavilion's floor. His words were these:
The Macedonian king is just arriv'd
From Athens; I have seen him. Dost thou know,
That supercilious populace hath spurn'd
My condescension, menac'd ev'n a prince,
Their host, for proff'ring kindness in my name.
Such my reward. To all th' Ionian Greeks,
The seed of Athens, I, when victor, left
Their democratic rule and laws unchang'd;
But I will cut all freedom by the roots
From man's ungrateful race. The wily Greek
Insinuating fram'd this brief reply:
Perhaps the name of Xerxes may offend
Th' Athenian tribes. Might Europe once behold
The son of Gobryas thron'd, then… Ha! proceed,
Mardonius answer'd. Lamachus again:
Doth not all Ægypt, doth not Libya's clime,
With Asia vast, afford redundant sway
To gratify one monarch? First of men,
Why may not Thrace, with Macedonia's realm,
Thessalia, Greece, whate'er thy mighty arm
Shall rend by conquest from the western world,
Become thy prize? They willing might accept
A sov'reign like Mardonius. Try their choice.
Away-Mardonius spake; and frowning bade
The Greek retire. Now left alone he mus'd,
Thus questioning his heart: Aspiring thoughts,
Do ye awaken at the coz'ning touch
Of this vile tempter? Honour, while my ear
Detests th' adviser, fortify my breast
Against th' advice-Enough-More swiftly drive,
Dull night, thy sooty wheels; come, active morn,
Then to the field, Mardonius. Conquer now;
Deliberate hereafter on the spoil.
But thou may'st perish-perish, and the gifts
Of fortune change to everlasting fame.
A sudden trumpet strikes his ear; he sees
Masistius nigh. So breaks the polar star
Through night's unrav'ling canopy of clouds
On some bewilder'd sailor to correct
His erring course. Amidst a warm embrace
Began Mardonius: O, in season come,
Thou more, than half myself! my strength decays,
My talents languish, ev'n my honour sleeps,
When thou art far. Masistius calm replies:
I have compos'd Pallene's late revolt
Through all the district; Potidæa's walls
Alone resisted; from whose small domain
O'erflow'd by tides the army I withdrew.
I come, Mardonius, not to hear a tale
Of languid talents, or of strength decay'd,
Much less of honour sleeping in thy breast,
When I am absent. Honour on a rock
Immoveable is fix'd; its solid base
The billowy passions beat in vain, nor gusts
Of fortune shake; support from none it wants,
Firm in itself. Some augury, or dream
Inexplicably dark, o'erclouds thy mind;
Resume thy native manliness, O chief,
Whose loyal faith the mightiest king entrusts
With all his pow'r and splendour, save the crown.
Prepare to pass Thermopylæ, and bring
Our labours to decision. Gobryas' son
Compares the language of his spotless friend
With his own devious thoughts, and turns aside
In blushing silence; but, recover'd, sends
His mandate forth to march by rising dawn.
Not with a less commotion in his soul
From diff'rent cares Emathia's prince resorts
To Amarantha. On her beauteous neck
In conjugal affection, yet in grief
Unutterable long he hangs. Alas!
My lord, she said, though early I presag'd
Thy embassy abortive, hath it prov'd
Disastrous? Yes, her agonizing spouse
Return'd; what more disastrous, than reproach
Among the old, hereditary friends
Of my forefathers! Amarantha, lend
Attention; amply shall my tongue relate
Events impress'd too deeply on my heart.
I went to Athens; Aristides call'd
Her various tribes; the image of a god
Was he presiding. Innocent, at least
Intentionally guiltless, I began;
Good will to Athens prompted ev'ry word:
Impow'r'd by Xerxes, thus Mardonius greets
You, men of Athens. Repossess your soil,
Enlarg'd dominion from the royal hand
Ask and obtain; be govern'd by your laws;
The son of Gobryas will rebuild your fanes;
Accept the king's alliance, and be free
With added strength and splendour. Me receive,
Illustrious people, offspring of the soil
Which you inhabit. Not a guest unknown
In Athens, I, your Macedonian host,
Of warm, unchang'd affection to your state,
Salvation bring, prosperity, and peace.
Reflect, what numbers of subjected Greeks,
Some ancient foes to Athens, others friends,
But now constrain'd, with Xerxes are ally'd.
The small remainder unsubdu'd consult
Their own defence. Are Spartans in the field?
Your produce, indefatigable race,
Your new-built mansions to a second waste
Of flames, your wives, your progeny, they leave
To want and rapine. Singly can you face
Half Greece, all Asia, leagu'd against your weal?
Oh! Amarantha, frowns on ev'ry brow
Indignant lowr'd around me. Present there
Was Aëmnestus from Laconia's state;
He, who, unaw'd by Xerxes on his throne,
Strange retribution claim'd, and sternly chose
Mardonius' self the victim to appease
Leonidas. Th' Athenians he address'd:
'Invading Sardis to enlarge your sway,
'Athenians, you are authors of a war,
'Which now extends to all of Grecian blood;
'Ill would it then become you to desert
'The gen'ral cause. To servitude resign'd
'By you, a double shame the Greeks would cast
On Athens, known of old and often prov'd
'By arms and counsel to redeem and guard
'The liberty of nations. I condemn
'Like you my tardy countrymen; will bleed
'Not less for you, than Sparta. Soon, I trust,
'She will arrange her phalanx on the field;
'Else to your vengeance I devote my head.
'Meantime your wives and offspring ev'ry state
'In love will cherish. Attic ears, be shut
'To this deceiver; his condition calls
'On him to plead for tyranny; himself
'Wields a despotic scepter, petty lord
'Of feeble Macedon, and Persia's slave.'
Severe and awful Aristides rose;
His manners still urbanity adorn'd:
'Ambassador of Sparta,' he began,
'Us thou hast charg'd as authors of the war,
'Yet dost extol our vigour in redress
'Of injur'd states. Th' Ionians were enslav'd,
'Our own descendants; Sardis we assail'd
'To set them free; nor less our present zeal
'For all of Grecian blood, by common ties
'Of language, manners, customs, rites and laws
'To us ally'd. Can Sparta doubt our faith?
'What disingenuous, unbeseeming thought
'In her, late witness of our lib'ral proof
'Of constancy! when ev'ry clime on earth
'Was equal to Athenians, where to chuse
'Their habitation, true to Greece they stay'd
'In sight of Athens burning to attempt
'The dang'rous fight, which Spartans would have 'shunn'd.
'Now from the ruins of paternal tombs,
'Of altars fall'n, and violated fanes,
'Loud vengeance calls, a voice our courage hears,
'Enlarg'd to pious fury. Spartan, know,
'If yet unknowing, of the Attic race
'Not one to treat with Xerxes will survive;
'Our wives and offspring shall encumber none;
'All we require of Sparta is to march;
'That, ere th' expected foe invades our bounds,
'The Greeks united on Boeotian plains
'May give him battle-Alexander, view
'That glorious pow'r, which rolls above our heads;
'He first his wonted orbit shall forsake,
'Ere we our virtue. Never more appear
'Before the presence of Cecropian tribes
'With embassies like this; nor, blind by zeal,
'Howe'er sincere to Athens, urge again
'What is beneath her majesty to bear.
'I should be griev'd her anger should disgrace
'A prince, distinguish'd as her host and friend;
'Meantime I pity thy dependent state.'
Loud acclamations hurried from the sight
Of that assembly thy dejected spouse,
In his own thoughts dishonour'd. What a lot
Is mine! If Xerxes triumph, I become
A slave in purple; should the Greeks prevail,
Should that Euboean conqueror, the son
Of Neocles be sent th' Athenian scourge….
Hear, and take comfort, interpos'd the queen.
To thee I come for counsel, sigh'd her lord;
I will repose me on thy breast, will hear
Thy voice, hereafter ever will obey;
Thy love, thy charms can sooth my plesent cares,
Thy wisdom ward the future. She proceeds:
That Greece will triumph, rest assur'd; no force
Of these untaught Barbarians can resist
Her policy and arms. Awhile, dear lord,
We must submit to wear the galling mask
Necessity imposes. New events
Are daily scatter'd by the restless palm
Of Fortune; some will prove propitious. Wife,
To all men gracious, Aristides serv'd
By us in season will befriend our state.
This said, her star-like beauty gilds his gloom,
While round them heav'n his midnight curtain drops.
By rising dawn th' Oetæan rocks and caves
Ring with ten thousand trumps and clarions loud.
With all his host the son of Gobryas leaves
His empty'd camp. So rushes from his den
The strong and thick-furr'd animal, who boasts
Calisto's lineage; bound in drowsy sloth
Bleak winter he exhausts; when tepid spring
His limbs releases from benumbing cold,
He reinstates his vigour, and asserts
Among Sarmatian woods his wonted sway.
The bands entire of Persians and of Medes,
The rest, selected from unnumber'd climes,
Compose the army. Forty myriads sweep
Thy pass, renown'd Thermopylæ, to rush
On Grecian cities scatter'd in their view.
So by the deep Borystenes in floods
Of frothy rage, by mightier Danube's wave,
Nor less by countless congregated streams,
The Euxine swoln, through Hellespontine straits
Impels his rapid current; thence extends
Among th' Ægean isles a turbid maze.
Three days the multitude requir'd to pass
The rough defile. Masistius in the van
His sumptuous arms, and all-surpassing form
Discovers. Tiridates leads the rear
Clos'd by the troops of Macedon, whose king
Sat on a car beside his radiant queen.
Amid the center, on a milk-white steed,
Mardonius rode in armour, plated gold
Thick set with gems. Before him march'd a guard
Of giant size, from each Barbarian tribe,
For huge dimension, and terrific mien,
Preferr'd. Their captain, from his stature nam'd
Briareus, born on Rhodope, display'd
That hundred-handed Titan on his shield.
He swung around an iron-studded mace,
In length ten cubits; to his shoulders broad
The hairy spoils of hunted bears supply'd
A shaggy mantle; his uncover'd head
Was bald, except where nigh the brawny neck
Short bushy locks their crisped terrors knit.
So his own mountain through surrounding woods
Lifts to the clouds a summit bare and smooth
In frost, which glistens by no season thaw'd.
Not such is gentle Mindarus behind
In argent mail. Unceasing, on his shield
Intent, Cleora newly painted there
A living beauty, but another's prize,
He views, while hopeless passion wastes the hue
Of his fair cheek, and elegance of form.
Not less th' unrivall'd Amarantha's eyes
Had pierc'd the son of Gobryas. Instant sparks
On her appearance from Nicæa first
Had kindled warm desire, which absence cool'd,
While she in distant Macedon abode.
When winter melted at the breath of spring,
Her sight again amid th' assembling host
Reviv'd the fervour of an eastern breast
By nature prone, by wanton licence us'd,
To am'rous pleasures. Public duty still
Employ'd his hours; still smother'd was the flame,
Nor on his wishes had occasion smil'd.
Ev'n in the absence of Æmathia's prince
At Athens, friendship's unremitted care
Still in Sandaucè's chamber held the queen
Sequester'd, inaccessibly immur'd.
Beside Masistius rode a youthful page
Of eastern lineage. He in tend'rest years
Stol'n by perfidious traffickers in slaves,
By Medon purchas'd, to Melissa giv'n,
By her was nam'd Statirus, and retain'd
Among her holy servitors. This youth
On her benign protector she bestow'd.
Masistius priz'd her token of esteem
Beyond himself, and daily bounty show'r'd
On young Statirus. Near the Locrian vale
Advancing now the satrap thus began:
O! early train'd by sage Melissa's hand,
Gift of her friendship, and in merit dear,
Nine months are fled, Statirus, since I bow'd
In docile reverence, not unlike thy own,
To her instruction. All her words divine
In precept or narration, from this breast
No time can blot. I now perceive a lake,
Which holds an island she hath oft describ'd,
Where tombs are mould'ring under cypress shades;
There she hath told me, great Oïleus rests.
O father of Melissa, should my pow'r
To savage licence of invasion leave
Thy dust expos'd, my progress were but small
In virtue's track; Masistius would disgrace
Thy daughter's guidance-Fly, Statirus, post
These my attendant vassals to protect
That sacred turf; let each battalion pass
Ere ye rejoin me. Uttering this, he hears
The trumpet's evening signal to encamp.
The sun is low; not ent'ring yet the vale,
Mardonius halts, and summons to his tent
Thessialia's chieftain, faithless Greek, approv'd
The Persian's friend, with him th' unwilling prince
Of Macedon, to whom the gen'ral thus:
To march by dawn your squadrons both prepare:
Thou, Larissæan Thorax, in these tracts
My trusted guide, with swift excursion reach
The Isthmus; watch the Spartan motions there.
Thou, Alexander, sweep the furthest bounds
Of Locris, Doris, Phocis; all their youth
In arms collect; ere thirty days elapse,
I shall expect them on the plains of Thebes.
He said: The king and Thorax both retire.
The morning shines; they execute their charge;
The host proceeds. Once happy was the vale,
Where Medon's father, and his faithful swain,
Now to illustrious Haliartus chang'd,
Abode in peace. No longer is retain'd
The verdant smoothness, ridg'd by grating wheels
Of Libyan cars, uptorn by pond'rous hoofs
Of trooping steeds and camels. Not this day
Is festive, such as Sparta's king enjoy'd,
When lib'ral hospitality receiv'd
His guardian standard on the Oïlean turf.
No jocund swain now modulates his pipe
To notes of welcome; not a maiden decks
Her hair in flow'rs; mute Philomel, whose throat
Once tun'd her warble to Laconian flutes,
Amid barbarian dissonance repines.
Now in rude march th' innumerable host
Approach the fountain, whose translucent rills
In murmur lull the passenger's repose
On beds of moss, in that refreshing cell,
To rural peace constructed by the friend
Of man, Oïleus. Thither to evade
The noontide heat the son of Gobryas turns.
Briareus, captain of his giant guard,
Accosts him ent'ring: Image of the king,
A list'ning ear to me thy servant lend;
Thou goest to Thebes; far diff'rent is the track
To Delphi. Shall that receptacle proud
Of Grecian treasure, heap'd from earliest times,
Yet rest unspoil'd? An earthquake, not the arms
Of feeble Delphians, foil'd the first attempt;
Not twice Parnassus will disjoint his frame.
Let me the precious enterprize resume,
Who neither dread the mountain, nor the god.
Though not assenting, yet without reproof
Mardonius looks, postponing his reply.
Hence soon the rumour of a new attempt
Against the Pythian oracle, the seat
Of Amarantha's birth, alarms her soul.
Massistius born to virtue, and refin'd
By frequent converse with Melissa pure,
The queen consults. Her instant he conveys
Before his friend, to deprecate an act
Of sacrilege so fatal once. The cell
She enters. Like Anchises, when his flock
On Ida's mount was folded, at the sight
Of Venus, breaking on his midnight hut
In all the radiance of celestial charms,
Mardonius stands, and fixes on the queen
An eye transported. At a sign his friend
Withdrew, but waited nigh. To her the chief:
What fortune brings the fairest of her sex
To her adoring servant? She replies:
False sure the rumour which pervades thy camp.
A second time to violate the shrine
Of Phoebus once provok'd, and sorely felt,
Thou canst not mean. The eager Persian then:
Admit th' intent; thy interceding voice
Protects Apollo. Not on my request
Avoid an impious action, firm she spake;
Weigh thy own danger in offending heav'n,
By piety and mercy win its grace.
No, all the merit shall be thine, he cried;
The favour due from heav'n be all thy own.
I ask no more than Amarantha's smile
For my reward; as Phoebus is thy god,
Thou art my goddess. Let me worship thus-
He stop'd, and seiz'd her hand with am'rous lips
To stain those lilied beauties, which surpass'd
Junonian whiteness. Virtue from her eyes
Flash'd, and with crimson indignation dy'd
Her cheeks: Retire; forget not who I am,
Stern she rebuk'd him. He, accustom'd long
To yielding beauty in the wanton East,
That torrid clime of love, a stranger he
To elegance of coyness in the sex,
Much more to chaste repulse, when ev'ry bar
But honour warm occasion hath remov'd,
These words austerely utter'd: Am I chang'd?
No more Mardonius? Is my dazzling sun
Of pow'r and splendour suddenly obscur'd?
In state degraded, for a peasant's garb
Have I exchang'd my purple? Is my prime,
My form, in all th' impurities of age
By some malignant talisman disguis'd,
At once grown loathsome? Who, and what I am,
Thou prodigy of coldness and disdain,
Remind me. Who, and what thou art, she said,
I will remind thee to confound thee more.
No characters of magic have the pow'r
To change a noble and ingenuous mind;
Thou hast thyself degraded; thou hast rent
The wreaths, which circle thy commanding brow,
And all their splendour wantonly defac'd.
Thy rank and pow'r exalted dost thou hold
From partial heav'n to violate the laws
Of men and gods? True pattern to the world
Of Persian virtues! Now to all thy pomp,
Thy steeds, thy chariots, and emblazing gems,
The gorgeous pageants of tyrannic state,
I leave thee, son of luxury and vice.
She said, and darted like a meteor swift
Away, whose aspect red presages woe
To superstition's herd. The Persian's pride
Is wounded; tapers to the cell he calls;
By them a tablet, unobserv'd before,
Attracts his gloomy eye. The words were these:
'The Spartan king a visitant was here,
'Who, by a tyrant's multitude o'erpow'r'd,
'Died for his country. Be accurst the man,
'The man impure, who violates these walls,
'Which, by Oïleus hospitably rais'd,
'Receiv'd the great Leonidas a guest.
'Oïlean Medon this inscription trac'd.'
Another hangs beneath it in this strain:
'Laconian Aëmnestus rested here,
'From Asia's camp return'd. His faulchion's point
'To deities and mortals thus proclaims
'His arm to vengeance on Mardonius pledg'd,
'The king of Sparta's manes to appease.'
Brave was the son of Gobryas, like the god
Of war in battle; yet a dream, an act
Of froward chance, would oft depress his mind.
He recollects with pain the challenge bold
From that severe Laconian in the tent
Of Xerxes; this to Amarantha's scorn
Succeeding, throws new darkness o'er his gloom.
Masistius ent'ring hasty thus began:
What hast thou done, Mardonius? When I led
This princess back, indignant she complain'd
Of wrong from thee. Thy countenance is griev'd.
Confus'd, Mardonius pointed to the scrolls;
Masistius read; he took the word again:
Now in the name of Horomazes, chief,
Art thou discourag'd by a Grecian vaunt,
Or by that empty oracle which claim'd
Atonement for Leonidas? Despise
Mysterious words and omens like a man.
But if thou bear'st the conscience of a deed
Unworthy, just thy sorrow; like a man
Feel due contrition, and the fault repair.
I have meant wrong, not acted, said the chief.
Greece once produc'd a Helen, who forsook
A throne and husband; what these later dames
Call honour, which without an eunuch guard
Protects their charms, in Asia is unknown.
Resentful, gall'd at first, I now admire
This lofty woman, who, like Helen bright,
Rejected me a lover, who surpass
The son of Priam. Thou art gentler far
Than I, discreet Masistius; sooth by morn
With lenient words, and costly gifts, her ire.
Call Mindarus, together let us feast;
He too is gentle, I am rough and hot,
Whom thou canst guide, Masistius, thou alone.
Soon Mindarus appears in aspect sad;
Soon is the royal equipage produc'd,
Which Xerxes gave Mardonius to sustain
His delegated state. Ye rustic pow'rs!
Ye Dryads, Oreads of th' Oïlean seat!
Ye Naiads white of lucid brooks and founts!
Had you existence other than in tales
Of fancy, how had your astonish'd eyes
At piles of gold enrich'd by orient gems
Been dimm'd with lustre? Genius of the cell
Simplicity had fram'd to rural peace!
How hadst thou started at a Persian board?
Fair female minstrels charm the sight and ear;
Effeminating measures on their lutes
Dissolve the soul in languor, which admits
No thought but love. Their voices chance directs
To sing of Daphnè by Apollo chas'd,
Of him inflam'd at beauties in her flight
Disclos'd, him reaching with a vain embrace
Those virgin beauties, into laurel chang'd
On flowry-bank'd Orontes, Syrian stream.
Mardonius sighs at disappointed love;
Tears down the cheeks of Mindarus descend,
Recalling dear Cleora, not as dead
Recall'd, but living in another's arms.
Not so the firmness of Masistius yields;
The sost, lascivious theme his thoughts reject,
By pure affections govern'd. Yet the charm
Of harmony prevailing serves to raise
Compos'd remembrance of Melissa's lyre,
Which oft in stillness of a moon-light hour,
Amid her nymphs in symphony high-ton'd,
To moderation, equity, and faith,
To deeds heroic and humane she struck
With force divine, reproving lawless will,
Intemp'rate passions, turpitude of mind,
And savage manners in her ethic lay.
The banquet ends, and all depart to rest.

End of the Twenty-first Book